Meeting Edward Cullen
by Twihardfan1234
Summary: He's a famous actor trying to make a real connection in a superficial world.  She's a small town girl trying to make it in the big city.  What happens when they meet through a chance encounter?


**AN: Hello again. Here's a new idea that I've been working on. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. As always, I'm a very busy person, so updates will be far between, but I promise to do my best. On a different note, I am a little unsure of the title. So after reading this first chapter, if any of you have any suggestions, I would be more than happy to have them. Thanks!**

1 Missed Call

Bella's POV:

I was late. Scratch that, I was really late. I was so late that there was no possible way in hell that they were still going to be there. But that didn't mean that I wasn't going to try anyway. Which explains why I was running down the street in 3 inch heels, weaving in and around people, looking like a mess trying to make it to my interview in time. And of course, as luck would have it, the exact worse moment when anything could happen… it does. I knock into someone full force, nearly falling flat on my face; but by some miracle, I managed to catch myself. But my purse goes flying and everything spills out onto the sidewalk. I can tell the guy I bumped into feels awful; he's picking up my things and helping me put them back in my bag. And if I had actually had the time, I would have noticed that it was rare for anyone in LA to ever give a damn about anyone else, and would have felt some sort of warm and fuzzy towards this stranger. You know, the same one you get when you see someone hold open a door for an elderly couple or offer a pregnant lady their seat on the train. I may have even looked up at him and thanked him properly, made some small chit chat about my clumsiness and how rom/com our moment was. But instead I was the rude, semi-corporate, typical LA resident who threw my bag over my arm, yelled a brief apology and thank you over my shoulder and continued sprinting down the street, too consumed by my own life. If I had the time, I would have scoffed at myself. I hate being late.

It was three hours later, and I was moseying down the street with my shoes in my hand and my spirits in the clouds. After barging through the door of the restaurant like a crazy person, explaining my extreme tardiness was due to a subway malfunction and would in no way reflect my performance there, I proceeded to wow them with my culinary experience and talents, and walked away being named the new Executive Chef. I was so elated that I almost forgot that Alice told me to call her as soon as my interview was over. Digging through my purse, I cursed myself for not getting a smaller one that had more pockets. As I was starting to get annoyed, I had one of those flashbacks, like they have in movies when someone has an epiphany in the spur of the moment and I realized that I must have dropped my phone when I bumped into that guy. I spat out a few choice expletives, loudly and unfortunately startling the close passers-by, and dropped my head back in exasperation. My entire life was on that phone. My appointments, my interviews, my date book, my music, my contacts…everything. All of a sudden, my elated mood turned into one of dread and sheer frustration at the idea of having to recreate and recover all of that information through some extensive and time consuming manner. I sighed and marched myself into the nearest convenient store. I was really pissed off; so what did I do? I bought stuff. Not very classy, I know, but I'm a stress-shopper. I storm through the isles, probably making the other shoppers nervous… or not, after all, this is LA; no one really gives a shit about anyone else. After throwing my small container of Ben&Jerry's, a package of Twizzlers, and 3 magazines on the counter, I was relieved to find that I still had my wallet. The clerk rang me up silently, successfully assuming from my less than charming demeanor that it was not the time for small talk, and I took the bag, swinging it by my side as I exited the store.

I don't know how many times I sighed between the convenient store and the subway station, but once I plopped down in my seat and ripped open my bag of Twizzlers, I felt a little light headed. Tearing into the candy with all of the grace and propriety of a back-roads trucker, I started flipping through my magazines. It seemed a little crazy to buy $12 worth of useless paper when I won't even read half of it, but to my credit, I really enjoyed the human interest stories, quizzes and fuzzy anecdotes. While I was flipping through I landed on a particularly captivating photo. It was a close up shot of a small Nigerian child being held in someone's arms. Upon reading the title and description, I came to realize, surprisingly, that it was about Edward Cullen. Normally, I didn't stop to read stories about the lifestyles of the rich and shameless; I usually find their lives to be sordid tales of captivating fictions of glamor and fame, and hidden realities of deception, drug abuse and troubled pasts. And I've never paid too much attention to any of them, let alone this particular actor, to notice if it was all inclusive. But after I started reading the article, I learned it wasn't about any of that. During a celebrity benefit to raise money for Doctors Without Borders, the ever mysterious Edward Cullen surprised everyone by setting up a fund in his late uncle's name that was geared toward paying off Medical School debt for young residents wanting to join DWB. According to the article, Mr. Cullen has a history of doing things that people would never expect, such as hopping on a plane and leaving the country for 2 weeks, only telling people afterward that he was participating in Red Cross initiative, or helping out with efforts to rebuild houses in New Orleans. The media was comparing him to George Clooney, Brad Pitt and Bono. He apparently even worked on an international human rights campaign with Nicholas Kristoff. After finishing the article, I made a definitive "hm." It was a nice change among the younger generation of stars to see someone actually giving something back. This was something I found very interesting and something that was probably going to make his movies more appealing to me. Not that I hadn't already seen most of them.

Alice was rummaging around in her closet when I walked through the front door of our apartment. I tossed all of my things on the little table by the front door and flopped down on the couch opening my mini Ben&Jerry's. All the while Alice was chattering on like I had never left. When she stopped explaining her dilemma over how she didn't have a pair of work shoes that were both fancy enough to go with the style of her new power suit and the right color, she poked her head out of her room leaning on the door frame. "So…?" I quirked a brow at her while shoving another full spoon of chocolate chocolate chip in my mouth. "Don't leave me in suspense. Did you get it?"

With my mouth still full, tipping my head back so as not to spit the ice cream out, mumbling over my consonants, I answered. "I got it." She celebrated for me while fully emerging herself from her room and coming to sit in our absurdly comfortable arm chair across from me. Once she sat, she noticed my apathetic expression, as well as my sheer focus and fascination with my ice cream.

"Why aren't you excited?" I sighed, sticking the spoon in the container and putting it on the coffee table as I sat up. I was excited, truly. But I was still bummed at the same time.

"I am. But I lost my phone today and it kind of put me in a bad mood. You know me; I have everything on that phone. It's going to take me forever to replace it all." All of a sudden, she jumped up and rushed back into her room, returning with a sheet of paper.

"I totally forgot. Some guy called. He has your phone." I sighed in extreme relief and flopped back onto the couch. The idea that I didn't have to painstakingly replace everything was a huge load off of my mind, and my mood. She continued, "Yeah, he wants to meet up with you to give it back." I knew that's what had to be done, but it didn't stop me from casting a suspicious gaze out anyway. In the world the way it was, it seemed like you always had to be careful about everyone. Noticing my expression, Alice piped up again. "He said he thought that that might sound a little sketch, so he suggested Average Joe at around noon tomorrow. I said you'd be there." I nodded as I pondered this. At least he had good taste in coffee, and it wouldn't be a complete waste of a trip if I could indulge in their vanilla chai latte. But Alice's Cheshire cat grin was starting to weird me out a little.

"What?" I asked, having absolutely no idea what was going through her head and leaning away from her intense expression.

"He sounded hot." That was Alice, to a T. I didn't understand why she was very fixated on me meeting someone. She'd only been dating her boyfriend for about a year; and before that it's not like she was a revolving door. So why my being alone just as I was about to embark on a great career was such a big deal. I was still in the phase of my life where I was focusing on me, my future, my goals. I knew I had to finish being a _me_ before I could be an _us_.

"That's ridiculous. How can anyone sound hot? Did he say how I could find him, or am I just supposed to walk up to every good looking guy in the place?" She opened up her refolded piece of paper again and read until she found the parts she was looking for through her scribble.

"He's going to be wearing a black tee shirt and have two phones on the table. Obviously." I nodded as looked fondly back at my ice cream and picked it up. Just as I got the spoon in my mouth, Alice swiped the carton from my hands. As you can imagine, I protested loudly. "It's for your own good." She said as she walked away and into the kitchen.

It was about 11:45 when I walked into Average Joe. The late morning crowd had just left, and since people didn't usually spend their lunch break in a coffee shop, the next rush wouldn't be there for several hours. Looking around and waiting, standing in the most awkward place imaginable, in the middle of the open floor space between the door and the tables, I noticed some of the regulars, since I was also one and frequented this particular establishment as often as any other caffeine-blooded American. But as I was looking around, I also noticed something that didn't belong. There, at a small table towards the back, facing away from the window was none other than Edward- freakin' – Cullen. No one really noticed him, as I once again scanned the crowd; this was LA, which meant that there were stars all over the place. Everyone was used to it. But my being somewhat of a newbie in the big city, I still got a little star struck. I was trying to be cool and not stare at him, but as I continued to stand there awkwardly and wait for my meeting, there wasn't much else to do. Once I glanced at him one too many times, if you were keeping track, he glanced up at me. His eyes passed over me for a second longer than they should have if he was just looking because he could tell that I was unsuccessfully not staring at him, and flitted around the room before he looked back down at his book. It wasn't until then that I noticed he was wearing a black t-shirt…and had one too many phones on the table.

_ No shit._ I bumped into Edward Cullen on the street and didn't even notice! I made a mental note then and there that I really needed to start paying more attention to things. I reluctantly rocked back on my heels before hesitantly moseying over to where he was sitting. When he looked at me with a pleasant, if not somewhat placating smile, probably expecting me to be some teeny bopper with a desire for a picture and an autograph, I pointed at the phones, affirming that one of them was definitely mine. "I think you're waiting for me."

He looked down at the phones, then back up at me with a raised eyebrow, "Bella?" I nodded and replied, "That's me."

He smiled and reached out his hand for mine. "Edward Cullen."

I gave him a bit of a _duh_ look. "Yes you are." He laughed at my slight awkwardness and handed me my phone. I sighed a bit in relief as I once again had possession of my life line, and thanked him. Then he asked if I would like to sit down. _No, I don't want to sit down and have coffee with a very attractive, slightly mysterious, rich and famous movie star. Sorry, maybe next time._ _Yeah right._ Though it was a little surreal. This kind of stuff did not happen to normal everyday people. If this were a movie, the young protagonist would very willingly absorb the attention of the doting and affectionate, misunderstood celebrity, while keeping perfect hair and make-up and knowing the exact right thing to say. But this was reality. And not only was I totally not dressed to be impressing superstars, I also never really had any genuine interest or belief in their lives. So entertaining the idea of a meet-cute with a Hollywood actor, while lovely and romanticized, put me a little on edge. He gave his head a tilt of encouragement, and I acquiesced with a slight nod. All the while my antennae went straight up and my bullshit detector went on high alert.

Breaking the slight silence we had amassed after I sat down, I folded my hands over my phone and leaned forward a little on the table. "Thank you so much for doing this. You probably have a busy schedule. But this phone is my life and I would have been lost without it." He shrugged it off while I was thanking him, but then commented when I was finished.

"Yeah, I noticed." I thought that was a strange comment, and narrowed my eyes a little at his meaning. "While I was trying to find out who to contact to return it to you, I snooped a little." I nodded an 'oh' in understanding and playfully narrowed my eyes, as if I believed his intentions were less than honorable and he was up to no good. He just smiled mischievously, and it was easy to see why he was so sought after.

I could definitely tell he was putting on the charm; he had a devilishly handsome smile and his voice could melt butter. But what I couldn't understand was why. Why would he be trying to charm me? The idea of celebrities and their false charisma reminded me of these slimy creeps I went to school with. The ones who always had an ulterior motive or something to gain or prove. They played the game for the game's sake and were never what they seemed. There were always a few, even when I was studying to be a chef at the C. I. A. and even when I did a semester abroad in France at Le Cordon Bleu. But not everyone was like that, even actors. There was absolutely no reason why he couldn't be completely genuine and honest. Maybe he was just a nice person, wanting to make conversation. But being ignorant of his intentions and motives made me automatically skeptical of him. The situation also didn't lend itself in his favor. He was a celebrity, and while a person too, he lead a different life; celebrities didn't go around and just chill like everyone else. They could, but they didn't.

"So where were you in such a rush yesterday?" I grimaced a little at the thought of how callous and inconsiderate I was.

"I had a job interview that I was running very late for. The train got stuck in the tunnel and by the time I got out, I thought I might miss it." I shrugged and then looked guilty again. "I'm sorry about the…" I made a smashing motion with my hands, accompanied by an explosion sound effect.

He chuckled and asked, "Did you get the job?" When I nodded, he continued, "Then no problem, it was all worth it." I smiled at that and then as a silence fell over us again, I looked around like I was about to get up. But before I could, he asked suddenly, "Would you like to stay and have coffee with me?" My eyebrows shot up and my mouth fell open slightly, while my hand rested frozen on the back of the chair and my body turned at a 45 degree angle away.

"Why?" He seemed slightly taken aback by my question, like he had never been asked why he wanted anything in his life, but was just given it instead. He leaned back in his chair and looked around for a minute like he was really thinking about it and then said, "Because we're in a coffee shop." I gave him a look that told him that he knew that wasn't what I meant, and he just grinned in reply.

"I know we're in a coffee shop. I thought it was a convenient location where we could meet because it was both public and near to where I nearly killed you, rushing through the streets. And also so that you could get a decent cup of coffee here after you dropped off my phone so it wasn't a complete waste of a trip. That would make perfect sense to me." He looked surprised by my little rant, like he never expected me to say so many words all at once or that I would have so much sass while I did it.

He composed himself after my speech and then replied. "Well, that was the original plan, but I'm not allowed to change my mind?" He raised his eyebrows at me, daring me to come up with a reason. But me being the petulant 2-year-old I am sometimes, with all the jaded attitude of a war vet, I answered negatively.

"No. Not without a reason. Don't you have better things to do than have coffee with me?" I realized that I had been relatively snarky up until that point, but instead of turning on the attitude, I asked this question with the pure innocence and curiosity of a child. I noticed that my skepticism made me arrogant and abrasive at times, while shy and introverted at others. It came and went and I often didn't know how I would react to things until they happened. This made me very frustrating for Alice, because she always liked being in control of situations and my unpredictability made me impossible to plan for.

Again he seemed really surprised at my question. This I could understand. When you are used to women throwing themselves at you and getting attention when you barely put in the slightest bit of effort for it, it probably comes as a shock to you when you have to suddenly work for it. But I really wanted to hear his answer.

"Okay." He sat up straight in his chair again, and looked like he was honestly thinking about his answer. Then he looked up at me and folded his hands together, with his elbows on the table. "You seem sweet. And real. And it's not very often that I get to spend any amount of time with people who aren't so corrupted by this world." He motioned around in a gesture that I could only assume meant LA and Hollywood. "I don't know. You have this very… simple sweet way about you. And I genuinely just wanted to continue talking with you. And why not do it with a very appealing cup of five star coffee?" He smiled hesitantly and expectantly at me, and I couldn't help but return it, reluctantly. I slid out of my chair, pulling my wallet out of my purse on the back of my chair as I did so. Edward protested, standing up and pulling out his own wallet, but I gave him a look that said, _don't even think about it_, and he sat back down. Once I ordered my coffee, I saw him put on glasses that I didn't notice earlier, and go back to his book while he waited.

While he was occupied, and I had nothing to do but wait for a few minutes, I took the time to really look at him, feeling like I actually had license to do so. He really was incredibly attractive. With gorgeous eyes, a strong jaw and a knee weakening smile, it was no wonder that people were constantly throwing themselves at him. There was no doubt in my mind that he knew just how attractive he was, but he didn't act like his celebrity made him different than anyone else. But that was hard to say. I'd known him for all of 8 minutes. There was no telling who people turned out to be after you've been around them for a while. I knew from experience that you could think you knew someone for years, when their true colors start to come out and they turn into someone different. And actors were professionals, and notorious at making the general public believe that they are whoever they want them to be. But that didn't mean that I wasn't appreciating that he was nice to look at. When my coffee was ready, I turned, taking a cleansing breath and walked back to the table. When he looked up at me through his glasses, with his bright green eyes, it knocked my socks off.

Edward POV:

I couldn't help but smile as she walked away toward the counter. Who the hell was this girl? She was so different from the people I knew, and night and day to the fans I usually met. I don't think I had ever met anyone who was both so confident and sure in how she conducted herself, while still being genuine and open. There was just something so appealing about her. When she walked in, I noticed that she was attractive, but she looked so uncomfortable and out of place that I didn't really pay much attention. But then once I met her and we started talking, I noticed how her smile brightened up her whole face, and she had a bit of a sly, teasing manner about her. Once she walked away, I turned back to my book to keep from staring at her. But after about 30 seconds, I felt her eyes back on me. Most people are easy to read most of the time; once you know them or interact with them in context, you can tell a story by the look on their faces and the way they react to things. But I was about ready to sell my left foot to be able to get a glimpse of what she was thinking at that moment. She was the first person I met in a long time that didn't take what I said at face value. It hadn't even occurred to me that she would wonder why I wanted to have coffee with her. When I think about myself in relation to the world, I don't really think _me: famous actor, you: insignificant human_, even though I know people who do think of themselves that way. I don't even usually notice how different my life is when I'm getting up early every morning, going to work, enjoying what I do, hanging out with my friends and then going home to my dog. That's normal to me. So when I meet people outside of the fan/ red carpet scene, the first thing I think of usually isn't about how this person perceives me as a celebrity. It's more of a '_hi, I'm Edward. And you are?'_ So when I asked her to have coffee with me, my main concern wasn't that she would jump at the chance to exploit my celebrity status, or question my motives as an actor, but would this pretty cool, very attractive girl want to have coffee with me. Part of it was probably because I don't think I've ever fully adjusted to the fame. Sometimes I still experience that insecure, amateur hour feeling from when I first went to New York to start out. I still feel that way whenever one of my movies comes out; my friends make fun of me because I always think people won't like it. The other part of it is probably because it's easy to forget that you're something special when you live in a city where every third person you meet on the street has at least been on Oprah.

She started walking back to the table and I finally looked up and smiled at her, taking off my glasses and putting them on top of my book on the side of the table. When she sat down, she pointed at my book and asked what I was reading.

"The Great Gatsby." I saw her face light up when I said it, and it was hard not to get lost in the light in her eyes and the glint in her hair. There never really is anything quite like feeling a strong attraction to someone for the first time. But seeing how skeptical she was of me already, I knew it was going to be difficult if not near impossible to see her again after today, so I was going to make the most of it. Even if it was only for an afternoon.

"I love that book. I remember when I read it for the first time in high school. It was one of the only ones that they made us read that I actually really enjoyed. The rest was just way too much Shakespeare." I smiled and chuckled lightly at that. I've always loved this book, since I read it for school too. And I also agreed about the intensity of the old English aspect of the secondary school reading list. I asked her what else she liked to read. She made a face like this was going to be a long list and said simply, "Everything." She laughed lightly at that and I felt myself leaning in a little on my forearms. "Right now I'm really into John Grisham. I've been in a murder mystery kick for a while now, so lots of Conan Doyle, Christie, Grafton…ooh, Lilian Jackson Braun." I was very impressed by her list. They were all authors that I had plenty of myself. Her face was really animated and I could tell she really enjoyed talking about books. At least I knew we had that in common. "Actually, I just finished catching up on my Diana Gabaldon Outlander series. A bit of an outlier among the whodunits, but it took me 2 years just to get through them all. They're so huge." I guess she noticed how much she was talking because she suddenly sat up and put her hand to her mouth. "Sorry, I get really excited when I talk about what I'm reading."

"No, I get the same way. And I'm a big fan of those authors. Though, I would add Stephen King and Tom Clancy to the list of who I've been into recently." She nodded as if she forgot them, and smiled, taking a sip of her coffee. When she put her cup down, she cleared her throat.

"Speaking of reading, I saw an article about you in _Everyday_ Magazine yesterday." I made a face that suggested that I was not really fond of people reading things about me in magazines. Though _Everyday_ was not trashy, it still wasn't the New York Times, so there was no telling what it was about.

"Oh gosh, really? Was it horrible? I don't really understand why people like reading about me, or anyone else for that matter. Unless you're a grassroots activist or a molecular chemist changing the world, people aren't really that interesting to read about in their daily lives." I was still scrunching my eyebrow a little waiting for what she could possibly think about what she read.

"No, it wasn't anything like that. It was about the fund you set up at the Doctors Without Borders charity event. I thought it was…very cool, what you did. I'm actually kind of impressed." She smiled impishly, and I couldn't help but tease her a little.

"Oh really? Impressed? Oh, sorry, 'kind of impressed'. Okay, I'll take it. Yeah, my uncle worked for them for 25 years. I couldn't think of a better use for the money that just came in for "Destruction Initiative". I figured I better put that Academy Award to good use." She smiled at my teasing, and made an impressed face at the mention of my latest movie, which suggested that she'd seen it. But I wasn't going to dwell. I didn't really like talking that much about my movies once they were over. The part that I loved, the acting, the cast, the excitement of making a movie was over. The after effect was more for everyone else, not me.

"Do you ever read the articles written about you? Not even the somewhat credible ones?" It was the first time that the conversation was actually flowing, and she seemed genuinely interested in conversing with me, instead of trying to end it so she could get away. I was happy for that, but I really wished we could talk about her. I wanted to know more.

"I try not to, if I can help it. My manager tells me if there is anything really important that I should know about. But as a general rule, I try to live my life as if millions of people aren't watching my every move. Besides, I don't really put much credibility into what others write about me. 'Many a doctrine are like a window pane. We seek truth through it, but it separates us from truth.'" She smiled as I said this, as if she knew exactly what I was talking about.

"Kalil Gibran said that," she said through a small, warm smile. I was amazed. This girl was even more incredible than I thought. I smiled at her, and for a moment, I was lost in her eyes. She was looking at me and I wanted nothing more than to stay in this place forever, but the spell was broken when she looked down at her hands. She stared at the table and fiddled absentmindedly with her phone. I took a sip of my own coffee and nodded towards it. "That's quite a decked out piece of equipment you've got there." She looked down at her phone and snorted at the black and clear jewels on the case.

"My roommate did it. She has a Bedazzler. It's dangerous; we can't leave anything around for her to get her hands on. This one time, she bedazzled all of the picture frames in the apartment." She laughed at that, but I was too distracted.

"We?" I asked, and she looked confused before it became apparent what I was asking.

"Oh, her boyfriend and I. He hides things at his own apartment too." She giggled, but I was relieved. But I had to make sure.

"So _you_ don't have a boyfriend…you know, hanging around, hiding his techy things around in drawers…?" The corner of her mouth quirked up, like she was pleased with the question but didn't want to let on that she thought anything of it.

"No, no boyfriend. Um, yeah. No boyfriend." I smiled slightly, and continued drinking my coffee.

Two hours later, we were shuffling out the door. Her hands were in her jean pockets and she was twisting slightly back and forth as we stood on the sidewalk. After our laughter died down and there was a moment of silence, I decided to go for it. "Bella?... Can I see you again?"

She stopped twisting and stared at me, wide-eyed. "Why?" I rocked back a little exasperated.

"What do you mean 'why'? What is with this 'why'? I would like to see you again. Would you like to go to dinner with me?" She stuttered a few times, then winced a little and I braced myself for it.

"I don't think that's a good idea." She bit her lip as she said this quietly, and then stared at her shoes. I was floored. No one had said no to a date invitation from me in a long time. Not that I thought that no one should, it's just that they hadn't. I had to think a minute before I figured out where I wanted to go with this.

"Why not? If the last…" I looked down at my watch, "two and a half hours are anything to go by, we get on rather well. And I have been having such a good time that I was hoping we could continue this." She looked strained while she tried to come up with an answer that would satisfy me, but I was not going to be easily persuaded unless she had a damn good reason. I was starting to be very attracted to this girl in a way that was different than anyone I had met in a long time. She was definitely special, and I wasn't about to allow her to be the one that got away.

"Because…you're you. I mean you're Edward Cullen, movie star. I don't think I would fit anywhere in all that comes with that." _That's the reason?_ She didn't think we should go out because I was famous. That's ironic.

"Bella, have I given you any indication that my celebrity is in anyway involved in this? That it has anything to do with why I'm asking you out?...Then why should it be a main factor in your answer? As far as I'm concerned, we're just two people, who were really enjoying each other's company. If you actually don't like me and you really don't want to go, that's a whole other story. Say the word and I'll stop pushing right now. But if you're worried that my fame makes me insincere, I can tell you that my intentions are completely honorable. Dinner, that's it." I gave a slight smile, hoping that it would soften her up a bit. And to my credit, it looked as if she was really warring with herself over her answer.

"It just…if I'm being completely honest, doesn't seem real. Here you are, and you're you."

"You said that already. I don't know what that means." I said, interrupting her, but she continued on anyway like I hadn't said anything.

"And you're asking me out, and I really enjoyed talking to you. But you're from a different world, and I'm heading towards a certain place, and I'm trying to get my feet on the ground. And I'm just worried that your life will complicate mine, and I can't afford to live with any regrets about what I've been working towards. There are just too many reasons why we shouldn't. That's all. It wouldn't work." She got quiet towards the end of her long and convoluted brain dump, and tilted her face down, while still looking up between her lashes like she was afraid of my reaction. She was way too adamant about this. Her reaction was too strong. It was a dinner invitation, not a marriage proposal. But there was something underneath the surface of her concern that I couldn't quite place.

"And what about the reasons why we should? Do you not see any of those?" She sighed heavily and shifted her feet back and forth before she answered.

"Why are you pushing so much? Am I really worth all this work? You don't even know me. You could think that I'm one person, and then when everything is all good and destroyed, you could decide that I am not really what you thought you wanted or what you thought you had, and then…or, I could be right and you could be exactly who I know you could be underneath all of this," She motioned up and down at me. "You could be nothing like you led me to believe, and we put in all that work and disturbed both our lives, and for what? When the dust settles, and we see how we got there, we would be wondering if it was worth all of the hassle. It's better just to not go there at all." She stopped again, breathing heavily and bringing the tone in her voice down again.

I could finally see what this was. This had absolutely nothing to do with me. She had been hurt in the past, and hurt badly. And whoever it was played her, deceived her; and now I could tell she was very skeptical of people she didn't know very well. I knew that I was going to have to change her mind, but now was not the time to do it. She was right, I was pushing, but for reasons that probably didn't occur to her. I haven't had the best of luck with successful relationships, and I knew from experience that if you found someone you genuinely felt connected to, you should fight for the chance that it might work out, despite the risks. I wasn't promiscuous, despite what the tabloids thought of me. I was actually very guarded and insecure about a lot of things. But I was also a hopeless romantic, which was a side of myself that only my ex-girlfriends and my few best friends knew about.

So I decided that I was going to let her walk away for now. I nodded an understanding at her, and she made a saddened face as she slowly turned and started walking away. I stood there for a minute just watching her walk down the street. She only looked back when she got to the end of the block, while I was also turning away. But the point is…that she did.

**Please review, I would love the feedback. **


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